Sherlock and Baking Don't Mix
by LifeisSupernatural500
Summary: Sherlock gets bored, and discovers a peanut butter cookie recipe. But what results? This is my first Sherlock fanfic, but it was really hard to grasp the idea. But hopefully you guys enjoy! R


**A/N: What's up? So, this is my first Sherlock fanfiction, yay! This came to me while I was trying not to get hysterical over Season 3 of Sherlock not coming out till January (I've been catching up on everything since yesterday).**

**Then, in the depths of my noggin which was in the hood of my hoodie, I thought, "Hey. I've never seen Sherlock try cooking ANYTHING." So, I ran to my computer and here I am! It'll probably suck though; I'm just writing what I've got.**

**Merry Christmas, and enjoy! ^_^**

* * *

Sherlock ran the bow over the strings of the violin, producing a beautiful low note. The Christmas tree sat proudly in the corner, the light winking and shining in the dark room. He had insisted on not putting it up ("What's the use of it? It just takes up space."), but John had insisted ("Come on, Sherlock! You know how Miss Hudson likes leaving things under it for us.") that they did. Sherlock sighed, slipping his suit jacket off his body and throwing it onto his chair. His green eyes looked around the flat for something to do. The violin still supported his chin, the bow still poised in his hand. Let's see... reading, no. Too boring. Internet? No, too many boring things. Cooking? Perhaps. He set the violin down on the coffee table, and strolled into the kitchen. Sherlock had never really cooked anything. Sure, he'd microwaved a few dinners, but that didn't really count as cooking, did it? He looked in the cabinets for anything easy: Jell-O, sandwich. He came across a cookbook of Miss Hudson's. He flipped to a random page while he closed the cabinets he had opened. "**HOW TO MAKE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES**" was written in bold print at the top of the page.

"Hm. Interesting. Not sure if this sort of cookie fits the holidays, but John would've made some pretty terrible ones anyway. Perhaps mine will be better." He straightened up and a smile graced the edge of his mouth. He loved proving he was better than others. He read the first ingredient: "1 1/4 cup all-purpose flour".

"So, this makes 18-25 cookies, eh?" Sherlock sat the book down and rummaged through the cabinets till he found the flour. He gathered all the ingredients listed, and he started to bake.

* * *

John looked out the window of the cap at London. The lights almost blinded him, the Christmas spirit seeming to be in the lights themselves. He smiled to himself, glad he had decided to say yes to Sherlock's offer of him being his flatmate. The doctor jumped as his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. "**999**" was the name of the caller. John frowned as he answered it.

"Hello?"

"_Dr. John Watson?_"

"Yes, this is him."

"_There's been a fire at your residence at 221B Baker Street._"

"Oh, good Lord, I'll be there as fast as I can!" John hung up, his fingers fumbling with the screen.

"Could you go a bit faster, it's an emergency." he said to the cab driver, who obeyed and went up to as fast as the traffic would allow.

"God, Sherlock, what have you done now?"

* * *

Sherlock finished wiping all the ash off his hands and face as a cab pulled up in front of the scene. John stumbled out, looking wide-eyed at the place. All the windows were covered in thick black ash, and splashing water could be heard from the inside.

"Sherlock," his flatmate asked. "what were you doing while I was gone?"

"I got bored, so I looked for something to do. I spied one of Miss Hudson's cookbooks, and I turned to the page with the peanut butter cookie recipe on it. I got all the ingredients, mixed the together, put them on a baking sheet and put them in the oven. I suppose I turned the oven on too high, and I had accidentally trailed a piece of cloth into the oven. Then I suppose you know what happened."

John was flabbergasted. All of this just because Sherlock tried to bake some flipping cookies?! He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. The fire marshall walked over and stated,

"Your flat is safe enough to sleep in tonight, but you'll have quite a bit to clean up on the morning." Sherlock started walking towards the building and climbing the stairs, so John followed quickly. While he was doing this, he wondered when Sherlock Holmes was ever going to do something that didn't have at least some bad side effects.

* * *

**A/N: It sucked, didn't it? ^_^**  
**I'm tired though, and I have to go a whole lot of places tomorrow for Christmas. So... merry Christmas, ma peoples!**


End file.
